Shady alleyways. Cold weather. Bad smells that give you inevitable headaches. People who’ll cut you at the first sign of any eye contact.

Keep moving forward to your destination. Then when you get what you need, you go back. Do the same thing all over again.

Yeah, that’s the life. Well, my life.

You say it’s not for you? Well, whatever. It’s how I live. It’s what I do.

During my walk, I pass a lot of characters. Sometimes even the same ones I’ve passed before. I’m not afraid to look at them, so I do. They shoot me that glare that plainly says, ‘Fuck you.’ I shoot it right back. They don’t do a damn thing.

I get to my destination, and it’s how it always is. We don’t speak, just keep shifting eyes back and forth. They look left, I look right. They switch, so do I. Everything’s clear, or so it seems. It’s good enough for us.

We pull our hands out of coat pockets at the same time. Me with what they want, them with what I need.

We do our routine switch, and it’s done.

“Thanks, Buddy,” I say, like always.

They nod, never speak. I don’t take it personally. It’s always like this. Business, nothing more. Well, business for them, pleasure for me. Or not pleasure? It’s not important. Just necessity.

I begin the walk back to where I started. Back through what I had just passed by minutes earlier. A tug on my pant leg stops me, and I look down. Stare into the face of someone who probably once had something, but obviously no longer does. Then comes the dirty tin shoved up at me. Wanting something. Like they always do.

I could just kick them off and keep walking, but I’m not in the mood. I drop a quarter and continue on my way. You always think that those kinds are saving up to better themselves… they’re not. I just gave them what looks like a bar of gold to their pathetic eyes. They’ll probably mix it with their pennies and nickels and buy alcohol or something equally useless. And I just helped them do it. Oh well, they’ll probably be dead by tomorrow.